


Local Gay Fetish on Trial

by knees_of_bees



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Dom Harry Potter, Humor, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, Parody, Pining, Pining Draco Malfoy, Post-War, Satire, Sub Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, Wizengamot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28608114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knees_of_bees/pseuds/knees_of_bees
Summary: The Man, the Myth, the sexy motherfricker showed up athis trialand Draco nearly got a boner on the spot.A hyperbolized character study of the fetishized version of Draco Malfoy that has appeared in various forms of fan-made media including fanfiction, DracoTok, and anything defending his character without properly acknowledging his downfalls. Disclaimer: Morally grey characters are the bomb dot com, and many fans of Draco's character think critically about his flaws as well as his positive attributes; This is a ridiculous piece of media and is meant to be enjoyed as such.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	Local Gay Fetish on Trial

A single tear rolled down Draco’s porcelain cheek. Here he was, on trial, as if he’d ever done anything wrong in his entire life. Sure, he passed out slurs like candy on the fourth of July, terrorized anyone with less social status than him, let murderers into Hogwarts, and stood by as people were tortured and killed, but who doesn’t love a bad boi? A little terrorism is sexy. 

Besides, all he wanted now was to put that life behind him and run a flower shop. He could write poetry about daisies on his breaks and cry aesthetically into the roses. Or maybe he should be a barista, swooshing his soft silvery hair off his face and smiling shyly at customers as he squirted whipped cream seductively onto their frappuccinos.

Who would ever want to hurt such a pitiful gay bottom (power bottom on a good day) like him? What, poor people? Because they were jealous? Clearly they didn’t understand that it’s hard being rich. A rich, white, sexy bottom with a sexy bottom. Those were his only personality traits, honestly ― those, and being attracted to Harry Potter.

Harry Potter. The bane of his existence and the light of his life. His Chosen One, He Who Must Be Named, the Boy Who Lived to Torture his Soul with those Cruel Glares and Sarcastic Remarks. Harry Potter wouldn’t come today; Harry Potter wouldn’t ever come for him.

Honestly, what did these people expect? For him to _take responsibility for his actions?_ Unbelievable. His father would most certainly― But then, just as his single tear plopped onto the cold, unforgiving ground, Golden Boy himself came swooping in. The Man, the Myth, the sexy motherfricker showed up at _his trial_ and Draco nearly got a boner on the spot.

Was he going to condemn Draco and everything he’d ever stood for? Was he going to heroically save him from the dementor’s kiss? Was he going to shock everyone and give Rita Skeeter a field day by smooching him square on the mouth right then and there? Draco hardly cared. Just seeing the Savior was enough ammunition for at least seven wet dreams down the line. “YOU CAME!” Draco whispered softly.

One by one, members of the audience stood and began slowly clapping. The clapping erupted into cheers, and Draco tried to bring his own hands together in celebration of the green-eyed wonder, but they were bound by handcuffs, and not in the kinky way. Well, maybe in the kinky way, seeing as anything’s kinky if you squint hard enough. Ha, _hard enough_. 

Harry swooshed his unruly raven locks, and he looked like Justin Bieber with a rat’s nest. So dreamy. Placing one foot in front of the other, as one does when one is walking, he walked toward Draco. 

“Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me,” he said in a sultry voice that sent shivers down Draco’s back. Also his legs. Also his neck, and like, his fingertips; basically, he was a shivering boy. Think polar bear but sexier. Like, a naked polar bear.

“Scarhead saved everybody else,” Harry was saying, “why not me? Why not little old Malfoy? Who’s gonna save _me?_ Well guess what, Malfoy?” He placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “You don’t deserve saving. But I’ll kiss you if you ask nicely.”

Draco whimpered. “P- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- p- pl- p- please?”

Leaning down, Harry snogged him so hard that Harry’s own glasses careened off his face, flying across the room and hitting a random judge in the face. 

“Yes, I want this,” Draco somehow said even though he was in the middle of kissing. 

Harry pulled back. Suddenly, vulnerability shone in his shimmering green orbs. “I have something to confess.”

“I love you,” they said in unison. The whole crowd gasped.

“Jinx!” Harry said, beaming smilingly. “You owe me a coke.”

“I don’t know what that is,” smiled Draco beamingly, “but will you accept a kiss as payment instead?”

Harry eyes darkened. “You bet, babe.”

The crowd once more began to clap slowly. “Let’s get married,” said Draco. Then they had a baby.

**Author's Note:**

> I myself have been guilty of writing shallow clichés, and this in no way an attack on those who flex their creative muscles by exploring characters in a recreational setting; if you've practiced writing at all, that's honorable. Respect, man.


End file.
